


spirits in my head (and they won't go)

by runfive



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Female Runner Five, Season 6 Spoilers, through s6m13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 06:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21266678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runfive/pseuds/runfive
Summary: Then again he and Five were always the usual suspects when it came to doing stupid things. He’d missed that. He couldn’t get Five to do much of anything fun nowadays. She was quieter (if that was even possible) since he’d joined up with Abel again. More tired.---Peter and Five have a conversation post s6e13.





	spirits in my head (and they won't go)

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers through s6m13  
also content warning for mentions/discussion of suicide
> 
> oh peter and five and all the issues they share  
hope you enjoy! (also I didn't proofread this sorry)

Peter’s just started to doze off on one of the more comfortable couches in the rec room, when he’s startled awake by a hand on his shoulder. “Peter, have you seen Five?” Sam asks before he’s even got an eye open, the hand on his shoulder shaking him much harder than he’d like to be shaken awake from a nap. Which is not at all. 

Peter drowsily shoves Sam away and squints up at him. Half his hair is sticking up to the side, where Peter knows he’s been gripping it in distress. “No. If you can’t keep track of your girlfriend, that's not my problem.” He’s already on his feet. “Where did you last see her, what’s she-been like today?”

“Same as she’s been since the manor house,” Sam replies, wringing his hands together. “You don’t think Moonchild would do anything to her right? I mean she needs Five to survive, she wouldn’t hurt her?” 

He and Sam lock eyes very briefly and he knows that they both know Moonchild hurting Five isn’t the real danger here. 

“Relax Sam, she’s probably just fallen asleep in the greenhouses again. At the very worst she’s had another episode and is off picking a fight with one of the goats in the pen, it’s fine.” It’s not. “Who else is looking?”

“Maxine and Paula. I didn’t want to bother Jody, she’s running more diplomatic conferences and well-I haven’t gone to anyone else yet. If Five _ is _ having another episode I don’t think she’d want too many people to know.”

“I know.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I’ll look around.”

Relief floods Sam’s face. “Thanks, Peter.”

He checks the greenhouses first. He’s caught her in there a few times, dead asleep. She doesn’t seem to do much of that at night anymore. It’s too obvious a place though, Peter knows that. Runner Five is not one to easily be found when she doesn’t want to be. 

He’s just headed off to check the orchard when he suddenly remembers one place they use to like to go, back when he was...well back before, and starts off in the opposite direction. There was a spot on one of the walls of the warehouse, where the metal panels stuck out just so that they could climb their way to the roof. From there they could see all of Abel and over the walls into the British countryside. Though he and Five mostly just snuck up there to mess with the contraband items they picked up on runs. They’d shot fireworks off the roof one New Year’s. Janine never did figure out that particular incident was them, though the furtive glares she’d thrown him the whole next day seemed to imply she had her suspicions. Then again he and Five were always the usual suspects when it came to doing stupid things. 

_ “She never does such foolish things with anyone else-I don’t know what it is about you, Simon, that makes Runner Five loose all common logic!” _Janine had chastised him after one particularly dumb stunt they’d pulled involving Jody’s bow and arrow. 

He’d missed that. He couldn’t get Five to do much of anything fun nowadays. She was quieter (if that was even possible) since he’d joined up with Abel again. More tired. 

He knows the feeling. Still Five did nothing to deserve it-not like him. 

He shakes off the thought as he arrives at the warehouse and pushes himself up against the side of the building, grabbing the metal bits that stick out and peeking over the edge of the roof.

His heart drops for a second. 

Five’s sitting on the opposite ledge, her back to him, a gun in her hand. 

He freezes, his foot balanced precariously on a pipe sticking out of the wall and his head just barely over the roof, and forces himself to think for a second. Five’s not the type of person to do it, even after everything she’s been through, he knows that. But she _ is _ the martyr type who’d off herself if she thought she was putting other people in danger. He remembers how he had to fight her for the pleasure of dying last time they were trying to stop Moonchild. Making a split second decision he pushes himself up onto the roof and walks over to her.

“Up here for a picnic, Five?”

She jumps up, and tries to hide the gun behind her back. It might have been funny in any other circumstances. There’s a brief standoff as they stare each other down a few moments. Then her eyes narrow, a stubborn and defiant look in them that says she’s not intending to make this easy for him. Alright. Two can play at that game. He remembers in the early days of Abel a little game he would play with himself, getting Five to talk. She was so quiet then, closed off. He was always a little proud when he got her to laugh on runs.

He takes another step toward her, “Got something there?”

“No,” she says, pointedly stepping back. Her tone has that dangerous edge that she learned from Sara. The ‘back off or die’ kind. Admittedly it use to scare him off back in the day when Sara used it, but he knows Five too well for it to work on him now.

“Come on, Five.” When she doesn’t move he reaches an arm around her back. She swats at him but seems to know she’s already too caught to try and fight him off. He grabs the gun and her fingers reluctantly release it. She’s breathing hard now, the way she does when she’s trying to keep her composure.

“Target practice?” Peter asks as lightly as he can, considering how shaken he’s feeling by the situation now that he’s got the gun in his hand.

“It’s unloaded,” she says flatly.

That does the opposite of ease him. “Unloaded so you can resist the temptation?”

“The temptation to do what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Five.”

“You’re the only one playing, Peter.”

“Shut up, Five.”

He’s suddenly angry with her. After everything they’ve been through. It was him who was supposed to be the one to give up first, Five was always the strong one they both knew that. He shakes his head at her and her lips tightened into a hard line. “I wasn’t going to do anything, okay Peter? Just leave me alone.” Her hands are shaking, though her voice comes out as steady as before, “You can’t understand.” 

Disbelief floods his body. _ He _ can’t understand? “You think I haven’t tried it, Five?” His voice comes out sharper than he means it too, sharper than he would talk to literally anyone else in this situation-but-it’s Five. “You tell yourself you’re not going to do it, you unload the gun, but meanwhile you’re _ rehearsing _for your big exit. Well I don’t want a ticket to opening night.” 

She doesn’t respond, just reaches out and snatches the gun back from him, her jaw clenched. He moves to grab it back, but freezes with his hand midway in the air as realization strikes him. Realization of why the gun looks so familiar. A chill runs up his spine. “You think Sara would want you to use her gun? You think she’d like that?”

Five’s expression suddenly snaps, “Well I wouldn’t know would I, because she’s dead, thanks to you!” she yells, the gun in her hand falling to the ground.

Peter steps back like she’s hit him and for a second he can’t breathe. His blood feels cold, almost in the way it did every time Van Ark injected him.

Five’s face falls, her eyes widening, “Peter, I didn’t-” she says breathlessly, sounding on the verge of tears. 

He deserved that, he did. It was cruel to goad Five by bringing Sara into it, he knows that. But he’d come to count on her as the one person in Abel who’d truly and actually forgiven him of his sins. Even if he never deserved it, she was always the one person. Every inch of him is aching to turn and leave, to run away but he won’t. He won’t, because it’s Five and he loves her and he made her a promise once-that he’d always come for her-even if she hated him, he’d be there for her. So he finishes the job. “You know what Five, if you want to give in to the crazy hippie in your head be my guest, I just didn’t think you were ever the type to give up so easily.”

She does hit him then, square on the shoulder and it takes him aback for a second. She’s smaller than he is but he’d forgotten how hard Five could hit, when she wanted to. Then again he hasn’t been on the receiving end of that for a long time. 

“I’m not going to kill myself because Moonchild won’t let me!” She finally yells. Her eyes widen for a second like she said something she shouldn’t have and she covers her mouth with her hand. 

“Five?” Peter says carefully. Her breathing’s gone funny and he can’t tell if she’s having another Moonchild episode or just the ordinary type. He’s gotten pretty good at telling when Moonchild’s buzzing around in her head. It’s Five’s eyes, not the-the moving thing-that everyone keeps talking about. It’s the haunted look in them. The scared look. The way she looked that time he’d shot her up with the anti-mind control serum.

He’s a bit afraid himself for the first time since he’s climbed onto the roof. Not of Five, not of Moonchild. Maybe for Five, for what Moonchild’s done to her. He puts a hand on her shoulder, ducking down to look at her eyes more closely. “You with me, Five?”

Her eyes move to meet his, and she reaches her other hand up to grip his shirt. They stay like that for a few minutes, Peter murmuring some stupid reassurances like that she’s going to be okay, but it seems to help anyway, as Five’s breathing starts to steady. 

She finally moves her hands away and steps back, looking at Peter. Her eyes are more tired than before but the defiance in them hasn’t quite died. “I’m not going to kill myself, Peter,” she says quietly. “I wouldn’t kill myself even if I could. But...it’d be nice to have the option.” 

He wants to laugh at that, “Yeah I know what that’s like,” he huffs.

She looks up at him, something of a ghost of a smile playing on her lips for the first time, “We’re both pretty messed up aren’t we?”

“Yeah we are, but we’re also still here Five. We haven’t given up yet and that’s what counts.”

Instinctively he pulls her into a hug then. She leans her head against his chest and they stay like that for a while, looking over the walls as the sun slowly turns the sky a brilliant orange and listening to the birds chirping quietly.

Five’s voice suddenly shakes him out of the stillness, “I meant it, Peter. When I said I’d forgiven you. I did. I do.”

“Five you don’t have to-“ he mumbles, starting to pull away but Five doubles her grip on him.

“You coming back was something...good, you know? One of the first good things in a long time.” She smiles up at him and her eyes look lighter than they have in weeks, “I’ll never stop being grateful, Peter.”

Peter’s throat tightens and he pulls her back into the hug so she can’t see his face, “I don’t deserve you at all, Five.” 

“Actually, I think you deserve more than me.”

“Alright, let’s not turn this into another self loathing competition.”

Five laughs against his chest. “You know...we should actually have a picnic up here sometime.” 

He grins, “Anytime, Five.”


End file.
